


When You Can't Sleep at Night

by woakiees



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Drunkenness, F/M, First Order Poe Dameron, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23899474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woakiees/pseuds/woakiees
Summary: "Poe pouted uncharacteristically. He wasn’t like this every time he got drunk, only when he was in the comfort of your own shared quarters did he lay down his merciless facade in favor of something softer. It was almost endearing, how he trusted you enough to show you such a rare side of himself, drunk or not."
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Reader
Kudos: 46





	When You Can't Sleep at Night

A gentle, quiet voice woke you from your dreamless sleep, causing a soft grunt to fly from your lips before you could even try and stop it. You hated being woken up.

Your hand shot out to your left, fumbling around the bed, trying to find the familiar warmth and comfort of another hand to no avail. The sheets were cold as your fingers curled around them, and you frowned without opening your eyes. He had been out of bed for a while.

You sat up, finally opening your eyes only to be met with more darkness, though it was expected. Space wasn’t exactly the brightest of places, and Poe never turned a light on if you were still sleeping. But the alarm hadn’t gone off yet, so you knew it wasn’t yet morning without even having to look towards the clock on the bedside table.

You did anyways, and frowned at the time.

Where was he?

A stupid question. You knew the answer.

You knew that if he wasn’t in bed beside you at such an ungodly hour, it meant that he was probably in his office, maybe smoking some spice, wanting to be left alone. Either that, or he was up dealing with some sort of shit that would lead to him wanting that time to himself, time that you would undoubtedly give him.

But you were so sure that you had heard him, that it was his voice that had pulled you from a deep sleep. Maybe you had been imagining things, or maybe you had been dreaming after all and just hadn’t realized. It made sense. Your dreams were usually filled with thoughts and images of him.

You were just about to lay back down when you heard a low whirring sound, only for that noise to be met with a quiet “shush”.

Now you knew you weren’t dreaming, and you definitely knew who that voice belonged to.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to wake you,” that familiar voice grumbled once he noticed your spine straighten again, his eyes adjusted enough to the darkness to see your minscule movement amongst the shadows.

You reached to the right, finding the switch for the bedside light, flipping it on to the dimmest possible setting, a soft yellow glow illuminating the room.

Poe was sitting on the floor next to your side of the bed, his back pressed against the wall with a familiar droid practically _cuddled_ into his side. You blinked the sleep away, rubbing at your eyes to make sure that you were seeing correctly before looking towards him once again, quickly taking notice that his own eyes were bloodshot and droopy.

But it wasn’t the familiar musk of spice you could smell coming off of him, it was alcohol.

He had been up drinking, by himself.

It wasn’t entirely unusual, but you knew that it meant something serious was on his mind. You knew his routine well enough. Smoking spice was to come down, alcohol was to forget.

“What are you doing on the floor?” you asked slowly, an eyebrow raising alongside your question.

“Just talking.”

“To BB-9?”

“He’s a very good listener.”

You frowned, slowly throwing the covers back from your body before sliding down to the floor, situating yourself in front of Poe’s bent knees.

“Is this what you do when you can’t sleep at night?”

He looked at you, his movements and eyes both lazy as a small grin appeared on his lips. “Only sometimes.”

He wasn’t sad. This was good. The alcohol had done the trick.

“And what are you two talking about?”

“You.”

His words caused you to quirk an eyebrow again and tilt your head to the side. “What about me?”

Poe merely shrugged, looking down at the droid next to him. You waited for him to say something more, but when his words never came, you gently placed your hands on his knees, bringing his attention back to you.

“Let’s get you in bed, Captain.”

He frowned, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Can BB stay here for the night?”

“He needs to charge, baby.”

Poe pouted uncharacteristically. He wasn’t like this every time he got drunk, only when he was in the comfort of your own shared quarters did he lay down his merciless facade in favor of something softer. It was almost endearing, how he trusted you enough to show you such a rare side of himself, drunk or not.

But you were his wife after all. He could be any version of himself, and you would love him regardless.

When Poe still didn’t move, you trailed your hands down his legs, loosely grabbing onto his ankles, just trying to keep the contact.

“You wouldn’t want him to die in the middle of the hangar tomorrow, would you sweet boy?”

He shook his head, though his bottom lip was still jutting out. You used the leverage you had from holding onto him to suddenly propel yourself forward and kiss him once, just barely.

“Let him go charge.”

Poe looked down to the small black droid and nodded his head, dismissing him to return to his charging station. His movement was met with a short string of beeps before BB-9 obeyed his commands, and swiftly rolled himself out of the room.

You hoisted yourself up off the ground just a moment later, reaching both of your hands out for Poe to take. Once his fingers were tightly interlocked with yours, you pulled, but the force of your movement combined with the way he pushed off with his feet sent you flying backwards.

You laughed when your back collided with the mattress, your husband’s solid and warm body collapsing on top of you as he didn’t even try to brace himself. It only made you laugh harder, and he buried his face into your neck to hide his own smile.

Figuring out why he decided to drink himself silly at such an ungodly hour could wait until morning.

You were too busy enjoying the softer side of First Order Captain Poe Dameron that only you were privileged enough to see.


End file.
